The Artist's Apprentice
by Celestina Van Helsing
Summary: *An AU of Vincent and The Doctor* When Robyn meets Vincent Van Gogh, she learns that magic can happen on Earth, but also learns that there are things that not even the Doctor can fix. 2nd in a series called 'A Daughter of Time'.
1. Prologue

**OoOoOoOoO**

Robyn bounded into the console room, filled with energy and excitement. It had been a few weeks since the Doctor had adopted her, and in that time they'd had quite a few adventures. There'd been a few near misses, times where she'd zigged when she should've zagged, but all in all, the Doctor had always managed to keep her safe. Well, as safe as he could. She approached the console, staring at all the bits and bobs that served as controls, then she skipped over to it and kissed it. She'd come to love the ancient time ship, and she was certain that it had come to love her. She, the TARDIS, had told her so in her dreams.

"Okay, we've been to Arcadia, and the Trojan Gardens, where next?" she asked no one in particular.

"The Musee d'Orsay," the Doctor replied, descending the stairs. Amy followed close behind. "To the Vincent Van Gogh exhibition."

"A museum? But they're boring!"

"Hey, I happen to like Van Gogh," said Amy. "And if the Van Gogh exhibition is where the Doctor wants to take us, then that's what he'll do."

Robyn sighed. "Oh, all right." She glared at the Doctor. "But it had better not be boring."

The Doctor laughed. "It won't. Trust me."

Amy rolled her eyes. "We do, and that's what worries me sometimes."

"You're not alone," said Robyn.

"Are you two going to continue ganging up on me, or are we going to the Musee d'Orsay?"

Robyn sighed, knowing she wasn't going to get out of it. "The Musee d'Orsay, I suppose."

"Good choice."

The Doctor moved over to the console and used the typewriter to enter the coordinates. He pointed to a lever. "Robyn, I want you to pull that," he pointed to another lever, then a switch, "and Amy, I want you to pull that, and then push the other one."

The two girls nodded. "Yes, Doctor," they chorused. Once they'd done as the Doctor had instructed, the console room lurched, shuddered, then righted itself with a tremendous thud. The usual whale song they associated with the landing process filled the air, and then with another loud thud, it stopped as soon as it had begun.

The Doctor raced to the door, then stuck his head out. "We're here," he announced. "We've landed right out the front."

Robyn looked at him in confusion. "But aren't people going to see us?" she asked, approaching the front door. "A big blue box just appearing out of nowhere isn't exactly inconspicuous."

"Robyn Lawson," the Doctor said in astonishment. "Where on earth did you learn that word?"

"I read a lot, Dad, remember?"

"Of course you do," he replied, patting her on the head, "and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Is he always like this?" asked Robyn, turning and directing the question to Amy.

"You tell me, kid, he's your Dad."

Robyn groaned. "I knew you'd say that."

The Doctor looked at the two girls with annoyance. "Right. Musee d'Orsay, out there, right now." He held out his hands to the two of them. "Coming?"

"Of course we are," said Amy, taking his offered hand, while Robyn held on to the other. "Someone's got to keep you out of trouble, don't they?"

Robyn nodded. "Yeah. Amy can't do that by herself!" She frowned. "Well, she probably could, but it helps that I'm here!"

The Doctor shook his head. "Oh, come on."

Robyn laughed, and with that, the three time travellers began their excursion to the Musee d'Orsay...

And finished the day, as usual, running for their lives.

**OoOoOoOoO**


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

"...so this is one of the last paintings Van Gogh ever painted," the museum curator began, addressing the group of tourists. "Those final months of his life were probably the most astonishing artistic outpouring in history. It was like Shakespeare knocking off Othello, Macbeth and King Lear over the summer hols. And especially astonishing, because Van Gogh did it with no hope of praise or reward, he is now acknowledged as one of the foremost artists..."

The first thing Robyn noticed about the art gallery was that it was alive with activity. The curator droned in the background, but that was easily ignored, and she tried to keep herself entertained by all the colours in the pretty paintings. Although she'd complained about it back on the TARDIS, visiting the Musee d'Orsay was actually quite exciting, because she'd never been to a museum before, and she'd never known what they were really like.

However, from Amy's perspective, the trip felt odd. Pleasant enough, as were the trips to the Trojan Gardens, and to Arcadia, which the Doctor had insisted, for some strange reason, that it be the Arcadia in Greece. No, this felt weird. The Doctor was nice to her, and liked to see her happy, but there was something about it all that felt like he was almost apologising for something. As if he'd done something wrong. "Thanks for bringing me," she said, smiling happily and flicking her scarf at him.

"You're welcome," the Doctor said quickly, and a little apologetically.

"You're being _so _nice to me." She eyed him suspiciously. "_Why_ are you being so nice to me?"

The Doctor frowned. "I'm always nice to you," he protested.

Robyn smirked, rolling her eyes. "Of course you are, Dad," she said.

"I am!" he insisted.

"You don't have to convince me," Robyn replied, nodding at Amy. "It's her who's suspicious, not me."

"What?" the Doctor spluttered. "It's not. There's _nothing_ to be suspicious about."

The look of genuine hurt on the Doctor's face was disconcerting, and yet in Robyn's eyes, it indicated that there was something else going on, something that Amy couldn't detect. Maybe he was trying to make up for something. Lost time, perhaps? Well, whatever it was, there was no way she was going to be able to ask him with Amy still around. This was something she would need to ask him about privately.

Meanwhile, Amy was taken aback by the Doctor's reaction to her good-natured teasing. "Look, okay, I was _joking._" She frowned. "Why aren't you?"

Without answering her, the Doctor walked over to the tour group to listen to the rest of the curator's speech.

"...each of these pictures now is worth tens of millions of pounds, yet in his lifetime he was a commercial disaster. Sold only one painting, and that to the sister of a friend. We have here, possibly, the greatest artist of all time, but when he died you could've sold his entire body of work and got about enough money to buy a sofa... and a couple of chairs." The tour group laughed, although it was clear that what the curator was telling them was not actually meant to be a joke. The curator sighed, and pointed at one of the paintings. "If you'll follow me now..."

As he led the group away, Robyn noticed a pair of schoolboys looking at a particular painting. They were whispering to each other, talking about the subject, a man that she didn't recognise at all. She overheard them say 'The Doctor', and tugged on her Doctor's jacket. "Are they talking about you?" she asked. "You haven't met Van Gogh, have you?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, haven't had the pleasure," he replied. "Met Dickens once, and Shakespeare. Even went to a garden party with Agatha Christie..." He smiled sadly, remembering the adventure he'd had with Donna, then sighed. "Nope, haven't met him."

"Oh."

"Look!" Amy cried suddenly, her eyes darting between her brochure and a painting on the wall. She dragged the Doctor over to it, and Robyn had to scramble to keep up with them. "There it is!" She held up the brochure in front of the painting, the pictures matching exactly. "The actual one!"

Robyn stared at the painting in awe. "Wow, that's pretty."

The Doctor grinned. "Yes," he said reverently. "You could almost feel his hand painting it right in front of you, carving the colours into shapes..." He trailed off, noticing something in the window of the church.

Something that shouldn't be there.

"Wait a minute," he murmured, taking a closer look, and almost squashing Robyn in the process.

"Oi, watch out!"

The Doctor winced, and stepped back slightly. "Sorry," he said, brushing her off.

Robyn cocked her head to one side. "You've seen something," she said, looking at the painting again. "You only get that way when you see something bad."

Amy looked at them in confusion. "What? What is it?"

The Doctor pointed at the painting again, specifically at the third window at the front of the church. "Well... just... look at that."

Amy inspected the painting, trying to see what the Doctor was pointing to, but she wasn't seeing it. Not straight away at least. "What?"

"Something very not good indeed."

Robyn looked at him with worry. "And how bad, on a scale of one to... let's say... eleven, is something very not good?"

The Doctor thought for a moment, calculating an appropriate answer. "Oh, I'd say... about a nine?"

"Nine? What would make it eleven?"

"When it's _extremely_ very not good. Which is only reserved for particular cataclysmic space-time events."

Robyn's face turned pale. "Oh. Okay, then."

"What _are _you two going on about?" Amy asked in annoyance.

The Doctor pointed at the painting again. "Look, there, in the window of the church.

Amy looked at the section the Doctor had pointed out... then gasped. "Is that a _face_?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"Yes, and not a nice face at all." The Doctor's face darkened. "I know evil when I see it, and I see it in that window." He took the psychic paper from his pocket, then approached the tour group, waving it in front of him. "Excuse me, if I could just interrupt for one second," he said authoritatively. "Sorry everyone, uh, routine inspection. Ministry of Art and... Artiness. So, um..." He fumbled, trying, and failing, to remember the curator's name.

"Dr. Black," he prompted.

"Yes, that's right." The Doctor pointed back at the painting of the church. "Do you actually know when that picture of the church was painted?"

Dr. Black's face lit up. "Ah... well... ah.. What an interesting question. Most people imagine -"

"I'm going to have to hurry you," the Doctor interrupted. "When was it?"

"Exactly?"

"As exactly as you can, and without a long speech, if possible. I'm in a hurry."

Dr. Black paused for a moment. "Well," he began. "In that case, probably somewhere between the first and third of June."

"What year?" the Doctor coaxed.

"Eight-teen ninety, less than a year before..." Here Dr. Black became choked up, as if he were recalling the death of a friend. "Before he killed himself."

The Doctor smiled and nodded, pleased that he'd found the information he'd needed. "Thank you, sir. Very helpful indeed." He noticed Dr. Black's bow-tie, and his smile widened. "Nice bow-tie. Bow-ties are cool."

Robyn giggled. "On you? Always."

Dr. Black smiled. "Yours is very..."

"Oh, thank you, I mean..." The Doctor gestured to the tour group. "Keep telling them stuff." He turned to Amy, taking Robyn by the hand at the same time. "We have to go."

"But what about the other pictures?" Amy protested, unimpressed that the outing had been disrupted in such a way.

The Doctor took her by the hand, dragging both her and Robyn to the exit. "Art can wait," he said. "This is life and death. _We_ need to talk to Vincent Van Gogh."

**OoOoOoOoO**

The TARDIS' arrival in 1890 was swift, probably because she sensed the urgency that her pilot had displayed from the moment he arrived back in the console room. She landed, as discreetly as possible, in an alleyway. The perception filter would keep her mostly hidden until the Doctor needed her, because he always needed her at some stage. As the trio exited the ship, they could hear a bell tolling in the distance, and a dog barking somewhere else, but on the whole, they were alone.

"Right, so, here's the plan," the Doctor began, making his way up the cobblestone street. "We find Vincent, and he leads us straight to the church and our nasty friend."

Amy laughed. "Easy peasy."

The Doctor shook his head. "Well, no, I suspect nothing will be easy with Mr. Van Gogh."

"So, how _are_ we going to find Mr. Van Gogh?" asked Robyn. "If he's not going to be so easy to find."

"Oh, he'll be easy to find, just not easy to work with. He'll probably be in the local cafe; sort of orangey light, chairs and tables outside."

"Like this?" asked Amy, checking her brochure to see if there were any pictures that matched the Doctor's description. Eventually she found it, a photograph depicting one of Vincent's own paintings, a cafe bathed in orange light, chairs and tables arranged outside underneath a large awning.

The Doctor nodded, glancing at the picture. "That's the one."

Amy studied the picture for a few moments longer, then looked up... and then she smiled. Right in front of them, not a few feet away, was the very cafe that had been immortalised in the painting. Everything matched, even the big blue doorway at the side of the picture. "Or, indeed, like _that_, she said, pointing to the building and feeling quite pleased with herself.

Robyn smiled. "Well, there you go!" She laughed. "Found it on our first go!"

The Doctor grinned. "Yes, _exactly_ like that!" He took Robyn by the hand, and approached the cafe. "Good evening!" he called pleasantly, addressing the man who looked like he was the owner of the establishment. "Does the name Vincent Van Gogh ring any bells?"

The man the Doctor was speaking to sighed in disgust. "Don't _mention_ that..." he said, walking into the cafe as quickly as he could.

Robyn snorted. "Well, _excuse_ us," she said in annoyance. "Just because we're asking about someone you don't like, doesn't mean you have to be rude to us."

"No, it's okay," said the Doctor. "I expected that." But his resolve wasn't shaken, and he turned to the maid attending to the table closest to him. "Do you know Vincent Van Gogh?"

The maid huffed. "Unfortunately," she replied.

Amy frowned. "Unfortunately?"

"He's _drunk_," the maid replied. "He's _mad_, and he _never_ pays his bills."

The Doctor smiled. "Good painter though, eh?"

The maid and her friend laughed at him, and the sound was harsh to Robyn's ears. The cruelty of some people disgusted her, especially when it was directed at people in the art world. In some of the books she'd read, she'd learned about the way artists saw the world, and none of them saw the world in exactly the same ways. Sure they came close, especially if they used the same techniques, but Vincent Van Gogh was unique, and after the visit to the museum, she didn't like the way he was treated one bit. She opened her mouth to voice her opinion on the matter, but she never got the chance, because she realised someone was coming out of the cafe. The Doctor led her over to a table, and the two of them sat down to watch what was going on.

Out of the cafe walked Vincent Van Gogh himself, attempting to cajole the cafe owner into letting him have another drink. "Come on, come _on!_" he pleaded. "One painting for one drink, that... that's not a bad deal!"

But the owner was having none of it. "It wouldn't be a bad deal if the painting were any good." He sighed. "I can't hang that up on my walls. It'd scare all my customers half to death. It's bad enough having you in here in person let alone looming over the customers day and night in a stupid hat. You pay money, or you get _out_."

"I'll pay if you like," the Doctor said quickly, gaining the artist's attention.

"What?"

"Well, if you like, I'll pay for the drink, _or _I'll pay for the painting and you can use the money to pay for the drink."

Vincent eyed the Doctor suspiciously. "Exactly who are you?"

"Oh, I'm..." He caught himself before he could let slip anything that might cause the artist some alarm. "New in town," he finished, eliciting a fit of giggles from Robyn.

"Well, in that case, you don't know three things."

"Go on."

By now, Vincent was becoming quite annoyed by the Doctor's interruptions. "One, I pay for my own drinks, thank you." At this response, the entire cafe filled with laughter. "Two, no one ever buys any of my paintings or they would be laughed out of town. So if you want to stay in town, I suggest you keep your cash to yourself. And three, your friend's cute, but you should keep your big nose out of other people's business." He turned back to the cafe owner. "Now come on, just one more drink, I'll pay tomorrow."

"No."

Vincent wasn't about to let the issue go, and he made one last effort. "Or, on the other hand, slightly more compassionately... _yes_?"

"Or, on the other hand, to protect my business from _mad men_... _no!_"

Amy rolled her eyes, clearly having had her fill of the two men's' squabbling. "Oh, shut _up,_ the pair of you!" she yelled. Once she had their attention, she sauntered up to the cafe owner purposefully. "I would like a bottle of wine please, which I will then share with _whomever_," she looked at Vincent pointedly, then smiled at him, "I choose."

Vincent smiled back. "That could be good."

This development seemed to satisfy the cafe owner. "It's good by me."

Amy smiled at Robyn and the Doctor, pleased that her efforts were well received. "Good."

"Well, that went well, sort of," said Robyn, standing up to follow Amy into the building. "At least we got Vincent's attention."

The Doctor stood, taking her by the hand. "True," he said in agreement. "Now we just have to get him to trust us."

"He likes Amy, that's a good start, isn't it?"

"Well, it's something." He frowned when the cafe owner shoved Vincent's painting into the artist's arms. "But we'll worry about that later. It's time we talked to Mr. Van Gogh."

**OoOoOoOoO**

The inside of the cafe was bathed in soft light, coming from lanterns, and a fireplace at the back of the room. It was warm too, and a welcome change to the cool evening air. The cafe owner lead the group to an empty table, and a maid brought over a bottle of wine, a pitcher of water, and four glasses. It was apparent that the water was for Robyn; even though none of them had requested it, but she was grateful all the same since she didn't wish try the wine at all. But sitting there, with the Doctor, and Amy, and Vincent Van Gogh, of all people, was just a surreal experience. This man, who had been dead for centuries where she'd come from, was sitting right next to her, and _alive_!

However, Vincent was much more interested in Amy. "That accent of yours," he began. "You from Holland, like me?"

"No," said Amy, while at the same time, the Doctor said, "Yes."

Robyn looked at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"She means yes," the Doctor reiterated, shooting Robyn a look she hoped meant that he'd explain later. "So, start again," he continued. He held out his hand. "Hello, I'm the Doctor."

From the expression on Vincent's face, this had obviously been the wrong thing to say. The artist snorted. "I _knew_ it," he said angrily.

"Sorry?"

"My brother's always sending doctors," Vincent explained. "But you won't be able to help."

Robyn looked up at him and smiled. "You never know, we might."

"It doesn't matter," Vincent replied, not even willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. "You still won't be able to help."

The Doctor laughed nervously. "Oh, no, not that kind of Doctor." He pointed to the painting by Vincent's side. "That's incredible, don't you think, Amy?"

Amy grinned, looking at the painting with glee. "_Absolutely_, one of my favourites!"

"I like it too," added Robyn, hoping to endear herself to the artist just as much as Amy had.

But their behaviour only served to make Vincent more suspicious of his new acquaintances. "One of my favourite _whats_?" he asked, his face darkening. "You've never seen my work before!"

The thought crossed Robyn's mind to tell him that they _had_ seen his work before, and very recently, but that would mean outing themselves as time travelers, and _that_ could make the poor man think he really _was_ starting to go mad.

"Ah, yes," Amy replied, realising she'd have to hastily change her answer. "One of my favourite paintings I've ever seen..." She raised her glass to her lips, and took a sip of her wine. "_Generally._"

"Then you can't have seen many paintings then." Vincent lifted the canvas so they could all see the picture, and sighed. "I know it's terrible, but it's the best I can do." He dropped the painting to the floor, and Robyn winced, dismayed that he'd treat his own work with such contempt. "Your hair is... _orange_," he said slowly, leaning across the table and inspecting Amy carefully.

Amy leaned forward, meeting him in the middle. "Yes. So's yours," she countered.

"Yes. It was more orange... but now it, of course... less."

Meanwhile, the Doctor knew they were getting nowhere fast, and he still didn't know how the creature in the painting of the church had gotten there. He'd have force the conversation in the right direction, or Vincent would be going on about Amy's looks forever. "So, um, Vincent?" he said, trying to ease into the subject casually. "Painted any churches recently? Or any churchy... plans? Are churches, chapels, religiousy stuff like that something you'd like to get into, you know, _fairly soon_?"

Vincent frowned. "Well, there is... one church I'm thinking of painting, when the weather is right."

The Doctor grinned. "_That _is very good news." Before he could say anything more, an elderly woman ran into the cafe, screaming for help. "_That_, on the other hand, isn't such quite good news." He leapt to his feet, and raced for the door. "Come on, Amy, Robyn, Vincent!"

Without a moment's hesitation, they were off, although Vincent paused to down the last of his wine, running as fast as their legs could carry them. The old woman led them through the streets until they came to a crowd of people surrounding a body of a young girl lying on the ground.

"She's been ripped to shreds," Robyn heard a man say as the Doctor tried to push through the crowd to inspect the body. She swallowed, hoping that the Menolissian Wolverine she used to dream about somehow hadn't become real. "Dad?" she said quietly. "What happened to her?" She'd been scared before, but this felt worse. She'd never actually seen someone actually lying on the ground, dead, because someone, usually the Doctor, or even Amy, had kept her as far from it as they could. But not this time.

She could see everything.

"Robyn, just stay back, you don't need to see this," the Doctor replied, although he was too distracted by the body of the poor girl. He rubbed his face with his hand. "Oh, no, no, no, _no_."

"Get away all of you vultures," a woman cried, running into the street and kneeling by the girl's body. "This is my _daughter!_" There was no doubt that the woman was beside herself with grief, and that anger was soon to follow. "What monster could've done this," she wailed. The Doctor moved to console her, but she lashed out. "Get away from her!" When she laid eyes on Vincent, that was the moment when her anger, and that of the townspeople, decided to manifest. "Get that mad man out of here!" she screamed. Led by the poor girl's mother, everyone started to pelt them with food, and there was little they could do but run from the onslaught, the girl's mother cursing Vincent's madness as they went.

They didn't stop running until they were out of harm's way; even then, Robyn knew she'd never get the sight of the girl out her mind.

"You all right?" asked the Doctor, addressing Vincent, but looking at her.

"Yes," Vincent replied. "I'm used to it."

Robyn remained silent, but the look of sorrow on her face spoke volumes.

Nodding grimly, the Doctor turned his attention back to Vincent. "Has anything like this murder happened here before?"

"Only a week ago," Vincent confirmed. "It's a terrible time."

"As I thought," said the Doctor, taking Robyn by the hand and leading her down the street. "As I thought." He stopped briefly, and turned to Vincent. "Come on, we better get you home."

Vincent regarded the Time Lord and the little girl carefully. "Where are you staying tonight?" he asked. "It's not safe for anyone, let alone a little girl like your daughter there, to be out this time of night. Especially after what we've seen."

The Doctor smiled with relief. "Oh, you're very kind," he replied, taking Vincent's words as an invitation. Amy giggled nervously, then ran after him, Vincent following close behind, once he'd jammed his hat on his head.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

**OoOoOoOoO**


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

The walk back to Vincent's house was long, but when they left the covered walkways of the city streets, the night sky was filled with hundreds upon thousands of bright, brilliant, beautiful stars. Robyn had never seen so many in her life, even though she'd already seen them up close. She looked at the Doctor and smiled, clutching his hand tightly. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"What for?"

"Everything."

The Doctor smiled. "What brought this on?"

"That girl."

His smile faded. "I'm sorry; you should never have seen that."

Robyn shook her head. "No, it's okay."

"No, it's not. The look on your face back there proved as much."

"Bit late now," she replied ruefully.

"Unfortunately."

"We have to find the thing that killed her, Dad; we can't let it kill again."

"I know, Robyn. But the only way we'll do _that_, is if, and when, Vincent paints that church."

"Then we'll just have to convince him to do it, won't we?" She nodded at the artist ahead of them. "Talk to him." She pointed up at the night sky. "Why don't you start the conversation with the stars?"

The Doctor grinned. "That's a good idea." He started to walk faster, in order to catch up with the painter. "Dark night," he called. "It's very _starry_."

Robyn giggled. "I said talk to him, not drop hints like anvils."

But Vincent didn't take the hint, and soon they came to a small house and yard, unkempt and slightly overgrown. Painting, and not gardening, was obviously Vincent's strongest suit. "It's not much," he explained. "I live on my own. You should be okay, for one night. _One_ night."

Amy grinned. "We're going to stay with him?" she whispered happily.

"Until he paints that church," the Doctor replied.

As he led them inside his home, Vincent pointed to a painting that was hanging near the doorway. "Watch out, that one's wet," he said, putting his hat on a hook by the front door.

Amy looked closely at the picture, recognising it as the one Vincent had done of his bedroom, and the sense of excitement she'd felt all day swelled up inside of her once again. She was actually going to stay in the same house as Vincent Van Gogh. His _actual_ house! Where the _actual _bedroom he'd painted was! She'd have to thank the Doctor again later, not just for taking her to the museum, but for bringing her here. She headed inside, joining the Doctor, Robyn, and Vincent, just as he lit the one lantern he kept in the room.

"Sorry about all the clutter," said Vincent, shaking the match in his hand as he put it out.

"Some clutter," the Doctor replied, gazing at the numerous paintings with awe.

"Are you _kidding_?" Robyn exclaimed. "This is _not_ clutter. This is amazing." She smiled at the artist. "I _love_ them."

Vincent looked at the little girl, smiling a sad half-smile. "I've come to accept the only person who's going to love my paintings is me."

Robyn's smile faded. "Surely you don't believe that," she said. "Because not everything a person believes is the truth and if you believe in something enough, well... anything can happen. You can prove people wrong." She glanced at the Doctor. "I thought I'd never be adopted, but look at me now." She turned back to Vincent, beaming happily. "I've got the best big sister and the daftest dad _ever!_"

Amy looked around the room, stunned by the beauty of all the artwork around her. "Wow. I mean really, _wow_."

"Yeah, I know, it's a mess," Vincent said with a sigh, heading into the next room and lighting the lantern. "I'll have a _proper_ clear out. I must, I really must." He moved on to the last room in the house, a kitchen of sorts, which contained a lantern, and a fireplace which had a cabinet filled with firewood next to it. He lit the lantern. "Coffee, anyone?" he offered.

"Not for me, actually," the Doctor called. He stuck his head through the doorway, just as Vincent rest the coffeepot on top of one of his paintings. "You know, you should be careful with these, they're... _precious_."

Vincent scowled as he wiped the coffee stain from the canvas. "Not precious to me, not precious to anyone else."

"They're precious to me," called Amy.

"And to me," added Robyn, following her into the room.

"Well, you're very kind," Vincent replied. "Your kindness is most welcome."

The Doctor decided it was time to steer the conversation back to the church, which was going to be interesting. He was pretty sure by then that it was the only thing he'd been talking about, but it was important, so he knew he had to stick to his guns, as distasteful as he found the analogy. "Right, so, this church then, near here is it?"

Vincent frowned as he opened the wood cabinet, then pulled out a few logs. "What is it with you and the church?" he asked, annoyed by the Doctor's incessant referrals to the subject.

"Oh, just casually interested in it, you know."

"Far from casual," Vincent replied, placing the wood in the fireplace. "It seems to me you never talk about anything else." He nodded at Robyn. "He's a strange one."

Robyn laughed. "I know, why do you think I have so much fun?"

The Doctor smiled. "Okay, so, let's talk about you, then. What are _you_ interested in?"

Vincent gestured around the room, at all the paintings lining the walls. "Well look around," he said. "Art. It seems to me there's so much to the world then the average eye is allowed to see. I believe, if you look hard, there are more wonders in this universe than you could ever have dreamed of."

"You don't have to tell me," the Doctor replied, sharing a knowing look with Amy and Robyn.

As Vincent returned to the fireplace, Robyn looked at the paintings he'd pointed out to them. The colours swirled and danced on the canvas, and she envied the talent the Dutchman had inside of him. She wished that she could make things better for him, but there was nothing she could do on her own, and, she suspected that nothing _would_ change, not drastically enough that Vincent's story would end differently. The Doctor had explained once about fixed points in time; back then she hadn't thought anything of it, but now... now she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. This wasn't going to end well at all.

It was going to end in tears.

**OoOoOoOoO**

A short while later, the coffee had been made, and drunk, and the Doctor and Robyn were listening to Vincent talking about his work. Amy had gone outside for some fresh air, and to look at the stars, and the rest of Vincent's paintings, but Robyn preferred the warmth inside the house. She watched carefully as Vincent spoke, his passion, and the love he felt for his art was written on his face, plain as day.

"It's colour," he said. "Colour that holds the key. I can _hear_ the colours." He motioned for quiet. "Listen to them." Vincent pointed through the window. "Every time I step outside, I feel Nature is shouting at me - Come on! Come and get me! Come on! Capture my mystery!" At the end of his ramblings, Vincent grabbed the lapels of the Doctor's jacket, shaking him in his seat.

The Doctor looked up at the artist, wide eyed and slightly fearful. "Maybe you've had enough coffee now," he said carefully. "How about some nice, calming, tea?" He punctuated his point by tapping Vincent's chest. "Let's get you a cup of camomile or something, shall we?" He frowned. "Amy. Where's Amy?"

His question was quickly answered by a loud high pitched scream, and there was no mistaking who the voice belonged to.

Robyn yelped, leaping to her feet. "Dad, that's Amy!"

"No, no, _no!_" the Doctor cried, jumping up from the chair.

Racing outside, they found Amy cowering in the grass, trembling from fright. The yard, except for the four of them, was completely empty, and there was nothing to indicate that something had even been there, let alone able to frighten anyone. But the Doctor knew they weren't alone, something in the air told him so. Something had to be roaming the area, and it had to be connected to Vincent somehow for it to come from killing a girl near the very cafe they'd met the artist, to making its presence known on the grounds of his own home. They'd have to be careful, he thought to himself, because there was the possibility that the creature was still around, and quite close.

"What happened?" the Doctor asked.

"I don't know," Amy replied quickly. "I didn't see. I was looking at some of the paintings out here when something hit me from behind."

The Doctor nodded. "It's okay," he said, trying his best to calm her down. "He's gone now, we're here."

Robyn swallowed. "How can you be so sure of that?"

"Honestly, I'm not, but we'll just have to stay calm."

As soon as he'd said this, however, Vincent started to yell, as if something had appeared in front of him. Yet he was the only one alarmed by what he saw, as if he were the only one who could see it. Whatever he could see, he started to back away from it, absolutely terrified by what it was. "No... _no!_" he screamed, inching towards the walls of his house. From his stance, it was clear that he was going to try and defend himself, but to the Doctor, Amy, and Robyn, these actions were unfounded, because there was nothing, at least nothing _they_ could see, that would warrant such a reaction.

"Take it easy," said the Doctor, coming between the artist and the invisible object of his terror. "Take it _easy!_"

Amy got to her feet. "What's happening?" she asked. "What's he doing?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know," he replied.

By now, Vincent had managed to find something to use as a weapon... a nasty looking two pronged pitchfork. He brandished the tool in front of him, waving it menacingly, as if that would be enough to drive the invisible terror away.

"Oh dear."

Vincent charged, running straight towards the Time Lord, and the two girls, keeping the pitchfork in front of him. Before they could be impaled by the tool, they quickly jumped to the sides' right when Vincent passed between them; missing them moments before the poor man could harm them. "Run, _run!_" he cried, waving them out of the way.

"Yeah," the Doctor hastily agreed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, that's not a bad idea. Amy, Robyn, get back, he's having some kind of fit!" Making no attempt to argue, Amy quickly took Robyn by the hand and the two of them ran back to the safety of the house. "I'll try to calm him down," he added, turning his attention to the terrified artist. "Easy, Vincent, _easy_. No, no, no, look. It's me, it's me, it's _me_." He waved his hands in front of him, his palms facing forward in a peaceful gesture. "It's the Doctor, look," the Doctor said slowly, trying to keep his voice as even as possible as he walked toward the artist. "No one else is here. So, Vincent..."

Robyn and Vincent both noticed the barrel behind the Doctor falling over at the same time. Robyn's heart leapt to her throat, as Vincent yelled "Look out!"

But the warning didn't come quick enough, and something hit the Doctor hard enough that he went sailing through the air, landing on his back as something tore one of the paintings that Amy and Robyn were trying to hide behind.

"I can't _see_ anything!" cried Amy. "What is it?"

"That is a _good_ question," the Doctor replied as he got to his feet, talking more to himself than to Amy. He picked up a stick from the ground nearby, then ran to Vincent's side. "Let me help you," he said, running around the other side of the table in the middle of the yard.

"What, you can see him too?"

The Doctor swallowed. "Uh... yes... ish... well... no, not really," he confessed, waving the stick about. Then suddenly, without any warning this time, he was in the air again, the invisible terror sending him flying over the top of the table.

"You _couldn't_ see him?"

"Ugh... No," he admitted, jumping to his feet. He ran back to the other side of the table, where the creature had been, swinging the stick and hoping he'd make contact with it.

At long last, Vincent managed to drive it off, wounding it with the pitchfork, so it didn't get away completely unharmed. But the Doctor, in his haste to defend Amy and Robyn, didn't notice that the danger was past, continuing to wave the stick in the air, much to Amy and Vincent's amusement. Robyn, however, was just grateful that he was all right.

"He's gone," said Vincent, as Amy came and stood beside him.

The Doctor turned to face the group, panting heavily, and feeling more than a little bit foolish. "All right, yes, of course." He threw the stick on the ground, taking Robyn by the hand, and leading the way back inside the house. "Right," he said, as they re-entered the kitchen. "So he's invisible. What did he look like?"

Vincent grabbed one of his paintings, then a paintbrush coated in white paint, and then painted over the top of it. "I'll show you."

"Oh, no!" the Doctor cried, when he noticed the artist doing this. "No, _no!_"

Amy gasped, horrified that Vincent treated his work in such a way.

"What?"

"It's just... um... that was quite _good_." The Doctor sighed. "No. On you go."

Once the paint was dry, Vincent started to sketch what he had seen out in the yard. With each new line the artist drew, something began to take shape, something nearly identical to the image in the painting of the church, but on a much larger scale. It looked like a combination of things, but predominately bird-like, particularly around the mouth of the creature, which looked more like a parrot's beak. When he was finished, he showed it to the Doctor.

He nodded. "Okay. Okay," he murmured, taking the painting from Vincent. "Right, Amy, make Mr. Van Gogh comfortable, don't let any invisible monsters in through the front door," he turned to Robyn, "and you, stay here, you'll be safer here with Amy and Vincent."

"I want to stay with you," Robyn protested.

"You can't," the Doctor replied. "I need to get something from the... you know... and it's better if you stay here." He kissed her forehead. "Amy and Vincent can keep you safe here."

Amy stood. "But it could be outside, _waiting_," she said, not eager for a repeat of the evening's events.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll risk it. What's the worst that could happen?"

"You could get torn into pieces by a monster you can't see," Amy and Robyn replied at the same time.

The Doctor frowned. "You're right, yes, that. Don't worry, I'll be back before you can say 'Where's he got to now?'." On that note, he walked out of the room, but he raced back in as quickly as he left. "Not _that_ fast!" he cried, making the three humans in the room jump with fright. He laughed. "But _pretty_ fast."

Robyn sighed.

This was definitely going to be a _long_ night.

**OoOoOoOoO**

The Doctor hadn't been gone very long, or at least it hadn't felt like he had, but the thought of him being out there alone with the invisible creature roaming the streets had Robyn's stomach tying itself in knots. Vincent had set out a pair of small cots, and Amy had insisted that they should try and get some sleep, considering that they didn't know how long the Doctor was going to be. But try as she might, Robyn couldn't make herself drift off to sleep at all. She looked over at the other cot, where Amy slumbered peacefully. She briefly thought of waking the older girl, but decided against it. Vincent was asleep in the other room, and she didn't to him wake up either. Instead, she carefully got out of the cot, then put on her coat, and walked to the front door.

"I can't _believe_ I'm doing this," she whispered to herself, marching into the yard and beginning the long walk back into town. She soon spotted the Doctor, about to turn into the street that they'd landed the TARDIS in, and started to walk faster. She was almost up to him when a noise came from behind her, a sound which the Doctor also heard. He noticed Robyn immediately. She blushed and waved. "Uh, hi, Dad," she said.

"Robyn... what..." The Doctor shook his head in disbelief. "What _are_ you doing here?"

Robyn looked at the ground, tracing circles in the dust with the toe of her shoe. "I... I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "And I was worried... about you."

The Doctor sighed. "I told you to stay with Amy and Vincent," he scolded. "It isn't safe out here for you."

"It's not safe for you either," Robyn replied. "But you're still here."

"Well, you're here now, so there's no point sending you back to Vincent's place."

Robyn grinned, grateful for small victories. "So, I can stay with you?"

"You'll have to," the Doctor replied, leading her to the TARDIS. "But maybe you could help me."

"Help you how?"

"I have, somewhere hidden away, a device that will help me see the creature that Vincent can see. But I thought it was just a _really_ bad present at the time I got it, so I put it away and never thought about it again."

Robyn rolled her eyes. "And now that you need it, you don't know where it is."

The Doctor shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much." He smiled. "So, coming?"

"Always."

And so, the pair of them went through the cavernous storage cupboards, searching for the device that would help them find the invisible creature and tell them what it was. The search took a couple of hours, and by the end of it Robyn was unable to keep her eyes open, crawling into one of the chairs surrounding the console and falling fast asleep. At least she _was_ asleep, until something came whizzing past her into the console room. She jerked awake, looking for the source, then realised it was her father, digging through an old trunk and muttering to himself.

The Doctor grinned, feeling quite pleased with himself, not noticing that Robyn was watching him. "Right, you here somewhere, I can't apologise enough," he said, lifting from the trunk a device that looked like it could be strapped to the body with the belts attached to it, and had a mirror, not unlike a car's side view mirror, stuck on the front. "I thought you were just a useless gadget. I _thought _you were just an embarrassing _present_, from a dull godmother with two heads and _bad_ breath... twice." He laughed. "How _wrong_ can a man be?"

"I can give you a good idea," Robyn said, smiling sleepily. She hopped out of the chair and approached the console, coming to stand beside the Doctor as he worked.

The Doctor glanced at her. "I'm sure you could," he replied, taking the odd and bulky device over to the console. "But that's not important right now." He connected the device to the console, then turned it on, and the device burst into life instantly. Adjusting the mirror, the Doctor looked into it, sticking his tongue out at his reflection. A moment later, the device made a loud noise, signaling that it had recognised the Doctor's image. He pushed the spacebar on the typewriter, and to Robyn's delight, it started to print out a picture, but the picture was of an old man, and written at the top were the words 'Name: Doctor' and 'Planet: Gallifrey'. "Good, okay, you're working," he said to himself.

Robyn looked at the printout carefully. "Who's that?" she asked.

"That's me," the Doctor replied. "When I was young... err... when I was _younger_."

She pointed to the next photo that the typewriter started to print. "Is that you too?"

"Yes, that was the second me, the older looking one was the first me."

"So there are more of you running about?"

"Yes... no... sort of..."

Robyn scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor sighed. "Yes, there are more of me running about," he replied reluctantly.

"So how many of you are there, and which one are you?"

"Eleven, and I'm the Eleventh."

Robyn's eyes widened. "Then that means there are _ten_ other Doctors out there, all of them different, but at the same time, they're all you?"

The Doctor rumpled the little girl's hair affectionately. "Exactly."

"Okay, now we've got _that_ cleared up... what's Gallifrey?"

A look of great sadness washed over the Time Lord's face, and Robyn knew that she had touched upon a delicate subject. She shook her head. "Sorry, Dad, I shouldn't have asked, and I wouldn't have asked if I'd known it was the wrong thing to do."

The Doctor looked down at his daughter, then knelt so they looked at each other eye to eye. He said nothing for a few moments, then gathered the girl into the biggest hug he could manage. "You scared me when you showed up like that out there," he murmured, changing the subject. "I expected you to stay where it was safe." Pulling back, he kissed her forehead. "Should've known you wouldn't listen."

Robyn blushed. "Couldn't leave you out here by yourself. Too dangerous."

"In that case, we need to find what we're up against." The Doctor stood, picking up Vincent's drawing. "Let's see what it makes of this." He held the drawing up to the mirror. "Who is that?"

It took a few minutes for the device to analyse the drawing and dredge up the information from its databanks, but when it finally made the noise to signal it had found something that matched, the Doctor frowned. "Now, I know some of that," he said, studying the image of the parrot that had come up on the screen. "There are thousands of them, and you can see them plain as day." The device made another search, but this time the image that appeared on the screen was that of a polar bear sticking its tongue out!

"I don't think that's what we want either," said Robyn with a laugh.

The Doctor smiled. "No, definitely not," he replied. "This is the problem with the _impressionists_, not accurate enough." He sighed. "This never would have happened with _Gainsborough_, or one of those _proper_ painters. Sorry, Vincent, you'll just have to draw something better."

Robyn scowled. "Oi, don't diss Vincent."

The Doctor grinned. "Don't worry, he's still a great artist," he said. "But we just need a more accurate image if we're going to work out what this invisible creature is." He disconnected the device from the console. "And, it's about time we started heading back," he continued, strapping it to his chest. "Probably almost morning outside, which means Amy and Vincent will be wondering where we got to."

Taking her by the hand, the Doctor and Robyn went outside, where it was, indeed, starting to become much lighter. They stopped in front of the TARDIS for a second, while the Doctor adjusted the mirror, and then the dial on the front of the device. It made the noise again a moment later, the one that meant it had found something, and the Doctor smiled. "That's better, old girl," he said. "Time delay, but you always get it right in the end." Words flashed across the screen. "Good, let's find out who this is, then." He read the display carefully. "Well, well, there you are, you poor thing. You brutal, murderous, abandoned, thing. I hope we meet again soon, so I can take you home."

But while the Doctor was occupied, the hairs on the back of Robyn's neck stood up, and she felt as if someone was breathing on her. She swallowed. "Dad, I think there's something behind us."

The Doctor looked in the mirror again, realising that the Krafayis itself had been what the device had used to identify it. His face went pale. "Maybe not _that_ soon."

**OoOoOoOoO**


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

The Krafayis roared, and the Doctor and Robyn turned on their heels and fled. The beast lumbered after them, chasing them down the cobblestone street. Then, without warning, the Doctor pulled Robyn around the corner, hoping the creature would just run past them. "Good," he panted, both of his hearts racing.

"This _not_ good," Robyn replied. "We've got something chasing us, and the only way we can see it is with that mirror!"

Not in the mood to argue, the pair of them started to run again, trying to get away from the invisible alien as fast as they could. The Krafayis roared again, continuing to make it presence known as it chased them down the street. In its haste, it knocked over a bicycle, which slowed it down a bit, but it didn't deter it completely, and soon it gave chase yet again.

"We'll have to lead it somewhere we can slow it down," said the Doctor. "That should give us the chance to get away."

"Would it?"

"Maybe, maybe not, it's worth a shot."

The Doctor and Robyn quickly ran through an archway, and then into a street that had a few empty crates, and a couple of tables propped up against the walls, as well as a couple of barrels; more than enough objects to hold the Krafayis at bay. The pair of them started knocking things over, hoping their efforts would be enough to slow the Krafayis down. Suddenly, the archway they'd passed through, not moments before, cracked and broke, the pieces falling onto the road, as if the beast had hit it on its way through since it was too tall to go underneath it properly.

"Take _that_," the Doctor breathed, knocking over another table. "And _that!_" Once he was done, he grabbed Robyn by the hand and ran, both of them hiding around the corner. The ploy worked, and the Krafayis got caught by all the debris, and it soon decided that it would have to give up on its quarry for now. The Doctor looked around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Is it gone?" Robyn whispered.

"It is," the Doctor replied. "For now." He started around the corner... and almost ran straight into Amy, who was coming from the other direction. All three of them jumped in fright, none of them expecting the other to be there. "You scared the _living_ daylights out of me!"

"And me," Robyn added, her heart thumping madly.

"Sorry," said Amy. "But when I woke up and Robyn was gone, well..." She sighed, and shook her head. "_And_ I got bored. As much you admire his command of colour and shape, it _is _hard to get fond of Vincent Van Gogh's _snoring_." She looked at Robyn harshly. "So, what have you got to say for yourself, kid?" she asked. "The Doctor told you to stay with me, didn't he?"

Robyn frowned. "He did," she said with a sigh. "I didn't listen, I know, and I'm _sorry!_"

"And it nearly got you killed," Amy replied, scolding the little girl. "You're lucky you even managed to find the Doctor," she continued. "Or else _he_ probably would've found you..." She looked at the Doctor sadly. "Oh, you know."

"_Amy_," the Doctor warned. "There's no need to bring that up again. Ever."

Amy nodded. "You're right, sorry," she said. "I won't. Really, I won't." She frowned, now noticing the device strapped to the Doctor's chest. "What, on earth, is that?" she asked, looking at the mirror in confusion. "And why are you wearing it like that?"

"It helps him see the monster," Robyn replied. "Just like Vincent can."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed. "That's what it does, more or less." He took Robyn by the hand. "And why I've got it rigged up like this isn't important, the fact that I've got it, on the other hand, is. Come on, let's get back to Vincent's place, he'll be waking up soon, if he isn't already, and he'll be wondering where we've gone." Just then, Robyn's stomach growled. "But we'll pick up something for breakfast on the way first."

Robyn smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"Someone's got to keep you fed, don't they?"

"I suppose."

Amy frowned for a moment, remembering the events of the previous night. "Could we find some sunflowers?" she asked. "I want to brighten up Vincent's yard a bit, and sunflowers might just be the thing we need."

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah, we can do that, easy. There should be plenty of sunflowers around here, and who knows, maybe you might be able to convince Vincent to paint them."

Robyn rolled her eyes. "Still hungry, Dad," she complained. "Can we go now?"

"In a minute," the Doctor replied. "We'll have to be careful, in case the creature is still around."

"But you said it was gone," said Amy looking around in alarm. "And now you're saying it might still be here?"

"You can never be too careful." He sighed. "Anyway, let's go, before _someone_ starts complaining again, all right?"

Amy nodded. "All right."

The trio walked back through the streets, picking up breakfast supplies on their way. Amy's request wound up being much more difficult to begin with, but eventually they found enough sunflowers, as much as they could carry, to brighten up the whole of Vincent's courtyard a million times over.

"This is going to look amazing," said Amy happily, arranging some of the sunflowers in a vase on the table. "He's going to be so surprised!"

"Not as surprised as he will be when Dad goes in to wake him up," Robyn replied, pouring herself a cup of juice. "I just hope Vincent's all right, especially after last night." She took a sip of her juice, then licked her lips. "And that poor woman, losing her daughter like that..." She shuddered. "You understand why I did it though, going out last night when I did?"

"Can you keep a secret?" Amy replied, looking at the little girl conspiratorially.

Robyn raised her eyebrows. "I can."

"I thought about doing the same thing as you did."

"You mean going after the Doctor?"

Amy nodded. "Yep. But I thought Vincent needed me more, at the time." She frowned. "Don't get me wrong, I was still worried about him, but..."

"After last night you didn't want to risk it."

"Nope. But I would've done it anyway. Keeping the Doctor safe is worth it."

Robyn nodded. "Yeah. It is."

**OoOoOoOoO**

"Wakey wakey, rise and shine," the Doctor called, throwing open Vincent's bedroom doors. "Breakfast is served in the courtyard." He moved to the windows next, opening them as Vincent awoke with a jerk. "Whoa, what a morning!" He turned to Vincent, who had still not yet gotten out of bed, and clapped his hands. "Come on," he said impatiently. "And Amy's got a little surprise for you."

Vincent walked over to the window, to find Amy, and Robyn, sitting at the table in the courtyard, surrounded by sunflowers in baskets, and vases; everywhere there'd been an empty space the previous night were now taken up by the bright yellow blooms. Even the window boxes, he noticed, had been filled with the flowers; a feat which had not been easy when the Doctor had to stop Robyn from almost falling out the windows while they were planting them.

Amy smiled up at the artist. "I thought I'd brighten things up to thank you for saving me last night," she called. "I thought you might like to, possibly, to perhaps, _paint_ them, or something?" She leaned on the table. "Might be a thought."

"Yes, well, they're not my favourite flower," Vincent replied.

"You don't like sunflowers?"

Vincent studied one of the blooms. "No, it's not that I don't like them," he said, reaching out to the flower delicately. "I find them complex, always somewhere between living and dying, half human as they turn to the sun. A little disgusting." He smiled. "But, you know, they _are_ a challenge."

"And one I'm pretty sure you'll rise to," said the Doctor. "But, moving on, there's something I need to show you." He quickly ushered Robyn and Amy inside, joining Vincent in the kitchen. Now they were all gathered together, he could tell them what they were up against. He took out a photograph that the device had printed out, then handed it to the artist.

Vincent recognised it immediately. "That's him," he said, running his thumb over the paper. "And the eyes, without mercy."

"This is a creature called the Krafayis," the Doctor began. "They travel in space. They travel, as a pack, scavenging across the universe. And sometimes one of them gets left behind, and _because_ they are a brutal race, the others never come back. So, dotted all around the universe are individual, utterly merciless, utterly abandoned, Krafayis. And what they do is, well, kill, until they're killed, which they usually are because other creatures can't see them."

"But I can," said Vincent.

Amy looked over Vincent's shoulder, and studied the photograph while she listened to the Doctor's speech. So this had been the creature that had attacked her, and had killed the other girl. This had been the creature that had been chasing Robyn and the Doctor while they were out. She shivered, then crossed the room and sat down, scratching her head.

"Yes," the Doctor continued. "And that's why we're in a unique position today, my friend; to _end_ this... _reign_ of terror." He grinned. "So, feeling like painting the church today?"

Vincent looked at him with worry. "What about the monster?"

"Take my word for it. If you paint it, he _will_ come."

"Okay, I'll get my things," Vincent replied, rising from his seat with a renewed sense of purpose. He started for the door, intending to get his equipment together as quickly as he could.

"And I promise you, we'll be out of your hair by this time tomorrow," the Doctor called after him.

Vincent stood in the doorway, and something about the look in his eyes told Robyn that telling him they'd be leaving the next morning was the wrong thing, and there would be consequences that couldn't be avoided, but would need to rectified, and quickly, if Vincent was going to be in a fit state to help them.

"This is risky," said the Doctor, his face lined with worry.

"Riskier than normal?" asked Amy, leaning forward in her seat.

"Well, think about it," the Doctor continued, standing from his seat and briefly checking that Vincent wasn't there to overhear. "This is the middle of Vincent Van Gogh's _greatest_ year of painting. If we're not careful, the net result of our pleasant little trip will be the _brutal_ murder of the _greatest_ artist who ever lived. Half the pictures on the wall of the Musee d'Orsay will disappear." He snapped his fingers here to illustrate his point. "And it will be our fault," he finished, collapsing on the couch between the two girls.

"But we'll be able to stop it, right?" asked Robyn nervously. "As long as we keep Vincent safe, we can find it?"

The Doctor sighed, and put his arm around her shoulders. "We'll find it, with or without Vincent. We'll just have to risk it, won't we?"

Robyn had never felt more helpless in her life. They _couldn't_ put Vincent in danger, they just _couldn't_, but she, and neither could the Doctor, evidently, find a way around it. Vincent _had_ to be there to paint the church, or else the Krafayis might not show up. But, on the other hand, if he _was_ there, they ran the risk of having him die before he could paint anything else, and time would be irreparably damaged, and it'd be all _their_ fault! _What_ were they going to do? "How long does it take for someone to get dressed?" she asked quietly. "And to get painting equipment together?"

The Doctor frowned. Vincent _was_ taking a fairly long time to come back, and he suspected that something was wrong. He kissed the top of Robyn's head. "Wait here, both of you, and start getting ready to go. I'll go check on Vincent and see if he's all right."

"Can I..." Robyn bit her lip. "Can I come with you?" She closed her eyes, trying hard not to cry, but it wasn't working, and a few tears managed to slip down her face. "Please say yes."

"Robyn... I think it's better if I go and talk to him alone," the Doctor replied, wiping her tears away with his thumb. "He might not be in the best frame of mind to see anyone else."

Robyn nodded reluctantly, then leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Make him feel better," she said.

The Doctor smiled. "I'll try," he replied. "But I can't make any promises."

"Then don't. Just make Vincent feel better."

**OoOoOoOoO**

The Doctor knocked on Vincent's bedroom door with trepidation. "Vincent," he called through the door. "Vincent?" He opened the door and stepped into the room, finding the artist lying on his bed, crying into his pillow. "Vincent, can I help?" he asked, approaching the man carefully.

"It's so clear you cannot help," he said. "And when you leave, and _everyone_ always leaves, I will be left once more with an empty heart and no hope."

"My experience is that there is, you know, surprisingly always hope," the Doctor replied, crouching by Vincent's bedside.

"Then your experience is incomplete," Vincent countered angrily. "I _know_ how it will end, and it will not end well."

The Doctor paused for a moment, trying to work out what to say that could help break Vincent from his depressed state. Deciding to take a chance, he clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, come out," he said, hoping that it would work. "Come on, let's go outside, eh?"

But Vincent lashed out. "Out!" he cried. "Get out! What are you _doing _here? _What_ are you _doing_ here?" He curled himself up into a ball, continuing to sob as the Doctor backed away.

"Very well," the Doctor replied, raising his hand in defeat. "I'll leave. I... I'll... leave you." He turned, and quickly walked out of the room, just as Amy and Robyn came up the stairs to meet him. The hopeful look on his daughter's face broke the Time Lord's hearts, much worse than it would to see it destroyed when he told her he couldn't make Vincent feel better as she had requested.

"What's happening?" asked Amy.

"We're leaving."

Robyn's face crumpled. "Why?"

"Everyone knows he's a delicate man," the Doctor replied. "Just months from now he'll..." He paused, unable to bring himself to say the words, even though he knew they had to be said. "He'll take his own life." Disgusted with himself, he pushed past Amy, heading for the stairs.

"Don't say that," Amy begged as he went past her, a hint of grief creeping into her voice. "Please."

The Doctor said nothing, then turned and walked downstairs. But the look on his face spoke volumes.

Amy looked at Robyn, who was staring at Vincent's door intently, her arms folded across her chest. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Vincent. I'm trying to decide whether I should go in there and talk to him."

"If the Doctor couldn't help him, what makes you think you can?"

Robyn looked at her accusingly. "What, do I look like I'm completely useless just because I'm a little kid?"

"Of course not," Amy replied. "But..."

"Oh, thanks a _lot_." Robyn turned to follow her father downstairs, tears of anger threatening to fall.

Amy sighed, then headed after the girl. "Don't be like that," she said, as she tried to catch up. "I didn't mean it that way."

Robyn whirled around. "Didn't you?" she yelled. "Why would you say that if you _didn't_ mean it?" She burst into tears, beside herself with sorrow. "Amy..." she said, shaking with sobs as the older girl wrapped her in a hug. "I'm sorry... I want to help him..."

"Shh, it's okay," she replied, smoothing the little girl's hair down her back. She frowned. "I want to help him too, but the trouble with Vincent is too big for you on your own. Now, if you have some help yourself, then maybe you might make a difference, but not this time." She studied Robyn's face, then wiped her tears away with her scarf. "Come on, let's go inside, back to the Doctor," she said, leading Robyn into the house.

The Doctor was looking at one of Vincent's paintings as they entered the room. He sighed. "Ah, come on," he said, taking Robyn by the hand and drawing her close. "We'll have to do this on our own. Go to the church at the right time, and hope the monster still turns up."

"Are you sure about that?" Robyn asked, trying to keep herself calm as she looked up at him. "Do you really think it'll still show up at the church?"

"I hope it does," the Doctor replied. "I mean, we might have a better chance if Vincent were coming with us, but..."

Robyn frowned. "Since we have to go it alone, there's no guarantee that it will."

The Doctor nodded. "That's right." He frowned. "By the way, were you yelling outside?"

"Yeah, I was. I got angry at Amy for a little while," she admitted. "I didn't like something she said, so I got mad at her... and myself a bit too." She sighed. "I wanted to help Vincent, after you left. I wanted to go in there and talk to him."

"I know you wanted to help him, Robyn, but it doesn't always work."

But before he could say anything more, a shadow appeared in the doorway, casting a domineering figure over the trio. From the shape of the shadow, there was no way to mistake who it could belong to, especially since only the four of them were around. Robyn looked at the shadow's owner and smiled, overjoyed to see him again.

"I'm ready," said Vincent. "Let's go."

**OoOoOoOoO**


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Half an hour later, the Doctor, Amy, Robyn, and Vincent, were on the road, beginning their journey to the church. The majority of Vincent's equipment was carried by Amy and Vincent, while Robyn carried a few smaller things in her pockets. She clutched the Doctor's hand tightly, so she could keep up easier, but also she didn't lose sight of Vincent.

"I'm sorry you're so sad," said Amy, trying to make conversation.

Vincent smiled. "But I'm not," he replied, taking her by the hand. "Sometimes these moods torture me for weeks, for months, but I'm good now. If Amy Pond can soldier on, then so can Vincent Van Gogh."

"I'm not 'soldiering' on, I'm fine," Amy countered, smiling back at him, then giggling nervously.

"Oh Amy, I can hear the song of your sadness. You've lost someone I think."

Amy looked at him in confusion. "I'm not sad," she insisted.

"Then why are you crying?"

And she was. For reasons she couldn't fathom, tears were slipping down Amy's face. She raised her hand and quickly brushed them away, but the fact that it had happened still remained. Why had she suddenly started crying? And whatever gave Vincent the idea that she'd lost someone? She had everything she needed - The Doctor, the TARDIS, and Robyn. She hadn't lost any of them, so why did Vincent think she was missing someone?

"It's all right," Vincent continued. "I understand."

Amy frowned. "I'm not sure I do," she said, feeling slightly shaken by what had just happened.

But while this _was_ happening, Robyn looked up at the Doctor, and realised when Vincent was telling Amy how he thought she'd lost someone, _he_ had looked quite sad, and more than a little guilty, as if he knew exactly what Vincent was talking about. "Dad, what's wrong?" she asked. "Why do you look sad?"

The Doctor shook his head. "It's nothing," he replied. "Don't worry about it."

"Can't be nothing, if it's making you feel sad."

"Look, it's not important... well... it _is_ important, actually, just not important right now." He sighed. "I'll tell you later."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Robyn smiled, pleased that she managed to get that much out of him, with the hope of knowing more later on. There were many things the Doctor still needed to explain to her, but she had all the time in the world, so she would be patient, at least for a little while, until he was ready to talk. He knew something, something that Vincent must have correctly guessed, something Amy _should_ have known, yet didn't. Something fishy was going on, she thought, something that was much bigger than she could ever imagine. She couldn't describe it, but she couldn't help feeling a sense of dread, not just for herself, but for Amy, and for her father as well. She leaned against the Doctor, holding his hand tightly. The one thing that scared her most was losing him, and getting stuck somewhere she could never escape, but losing the Doctor scared her more. Something about the world without him in it terrified her. Who would be there to protect her, or to protect the _Earth_, if he didn't, or couldn't? Who would fight the monsters and lock them away where they couldn't get to them?

"Okay," the Doctor said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Okay. So, now, we must have a plan. When the creature returns -"

"Then we shall fight him again," Vincent interrupted, looking at the Doctor with determination.

"Well... yes... _tick_... but last night we were lucky. Amy could've been killed, so, this time, for a start, we have to make sure I can see him too."

Amy frowned, momentarily forgetting about the Doctor's device. "And how are we meant to do that suddenly?"

The Doctor briefly let go of Robyn's hand, then patted the suitcase he carried in the other. "The answer is in this box," he replied, quickly adding, "I had an _excellent_, if smelly, godmother." He took Robyn's hand again, then the two of them walked ahead, then he frowned, and then squinted, noticing a procession of people heading towards them, all dressed in black.

It was a funeral procession.

"Oh no," Vincent breathed. "It's that poor girl from the village."

The quartet bowed their heads in respect, Vincent removing his hat as well; and Robyn couldn't help shedding a few tears when she noticed that the lid of the girl's casket had been adorned with a bouquet of sunflowers. She remembered what Vincent said about the sunflowers over breakfast, now understanding, at least partially, what he meant. She let the Doctor pull her towards him, and put his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

"You do have a plan, don't you?" asked Amy, looking at him sadly.

The Doctor shook his head. "No," he admitted. "It's a thing. It's like a plan, but with more greatness."

Robyn looked up at him. "Will it work?"

"I don't know yet. We'll just have to wait and see."

A few hours later, they arrived at the church, and then quickly set to work. Robyn kept out of the way as much as she could, watching carefully as Vincent drove the spikes of his easel into the ground. The Doctor hovered around, trying to keep himself amused while Amy helped the artist set out his equipment, but he failed miserably. He was anxious, after all. The Krafayis could show up at any time, and they needed to be on their guard.

"And you'll be sure to tell me if you see any, you know, monsters," he said, leaning over Vincent's shoulder.

He nodded. "Yes, well, I maybe mad," he replied. "I'm not stupid."

"Of course you're not," Robyn said quietly. "And don't you dare let anyone think you are."

The Doctor looked at her and smiled. "That's my girl." He crouched by Vincent's side. "To be honest, I'm not sure about mad, either. It seems to me, _depression_ is a... a... very complex..."

"Shh," said Vincent, raising a finger to his lips. He pointed at the empty canvas. "I'm working."

"Well, yes." He stood. "Paint," he prompted. "Do painting."

**OoOoOoOoO**

Vincent dipped his brush into the blue paint coating his palette, then spread it liberally around the outside of the sketch of the church. With each brush-stroke, the painting that Amy and Robyn had seen both two days ago, and one hundred and twenty years into the future, came to life before their very eyes. There were no words to describe how it felt, watching the artist work, especially when, from his perspective, the painting they knew had not existed in any way, shape, or form, until he had started to paint it. Their past was his future, and yet, they were occurring simultaneously. Seeing history happen in front of their eyes was one of the best things that Robyn had ever known since the Doctor had adopted her.

But on the other hand, the Doctor was bored. He was never one to stand still, because he was so used to being on the move. He wasn't used to spending time cooped up in one place, even when it was necessary. As great as he thought Vincent was, the Doctor wasn't so enamoured with the time it took for the artist to go about his work. When he didn't sit down, he stood, when he didn't stand, he sat down, when he thought he was going to burst from boredom, he stood and started to walk in circles, just so he had something to do, because, in his mind, standing around and doing absolutely nothing at all was the worst possible thing he could imagine. "I remember watching Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel," he said, when the silence become too much for him to bear. "Wow, _what_ a whinger!" He clapped his hands together. "I kept saying to _him_, 'Look, if you're scared of heights, you shouldn't've taken the job, mate,'."

Amy shushed him, annoyed that he was being so disruptive.

This worked for while, but soon the Doctor was off and running again. "And Picasso, what a _ghastly_ old goat. I kept telling him 'Concentrate, Pablo. It's one eye... either side of the face,'."

"Quiet," Amy hissed at him, scowling and whacking him on the shoulder.

Robyn laughed. "You all right?" she asked. "We could go for a walk, or something?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, we need to stay here. Can't go wandering off. This is too important."

"Keeping you from going stir crazy is important too, Dad," Robyn replied. She hugged him. "You're important too."

Another hour passed, and then another, and then another... until night started to fall. Robyn shivered as a cool breeze descended, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing to keep herself warm against the night air. Somewhere off in the distance, an owl began to hoot. The sound would've normally been comforting to the little girl, but with the Krafayis potentially going to show up at a moments notice, she couldn't let her guard down at all. For all they knew, it could be already in the church, just not where Vincent could see it.

"Is this how time normally passes?" the Doctor complained. "Really slowly... in the right order." He stood, and started to move around, trying to fulfil the need to stretch his legs. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's an _unpunctual_ alien attack!"

"Are you okay?" asked Amy, following him. "You seem a bit... if I didn't know you better, I'd say nervous."

"Yes," the Doctor replied. "There's something not right, and I can't _quite_ put my finger on it."

Vincent looked up to check the windows before he painted them. He looked down, then looked up again almost immediately, realising that there was something showing its face through the window.

It was the Krafayis.

"There," he cried, pointing at the church as he gained the Doctor and Amy's attention. "He's at the window!"

"Where?" the Doctor replied, his eyes darting between the two windows on the front of the church.

"There, on the right."

"As I thought. Come on!" The Doctor quickly collected his briefcase. "I'm going in!"

Vincent started gathering his things together. "Well, I'm coming too!"

The Doctor whirled around. "No," he said, shaking his head. "You're Vincent Van Gogh. No."

"But you're not armed!" Vincent countered, as if that would be enough to convince him to not go inside alone.

"I am."

"What with?"

"Overconfidence," the Doctor patted the briefcase, "this, and a small screwdriver, I'm absolutely sorted. I just have to find the crosactic setting and stun him with it, the sonic never fails. Anyway, Amy, only one thought, one simple instruction... don't follow me under any circumstances."

Amy nodded. "I won't."

He looked at Robyn pointedly. "And that goes for you too, young lady, we're not going to have a repeat of last night."

"But _Dad_..."

"No, no buts, Robyn. Stay here."

"Be careful, please?" she asked, walking over and standing in front of him. "For me?"

The Doctor reached out and tucked the little girl's hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek. "I will." And on that note, he turned and walked away, heading into the church.

"Will you follow him?" Vincent murmured, when he was out of earshot.

Amy grinned. "Of course!"

Vincent smiled. "I love you."

Once the Doctor was safely inside the church, he opened the briefcase, taking out the scanning device and using the harness to strap it to his chest once again. He turned it on, and the device flared into life, ready to be put into use. Walking through the church carefully, the Doctor adjusted the mirror every so often, making sure that he didn't accidentally run into the beast before he was in a position that he could scan it with the sonic screwdriver.

Outside, Amy and Robyn paced anxiously, worried about the monster, and whether or not the Doctor was all right. "Has he moved?" asked Amy, turning to Vincent.

"It's still there, isn't it?" Robyn added.

Vincent shook his head. "No, it's just shifted to the other window," he replied. A look of horror flashed across the artist's face. "But wait, he's turning now!"

Inside, the Doctor continued his search, still scanning the area around him with the sonic screwdriver. He adjusted the mirror again, and then again. "Damn, he's moved," he said to himself, just as the image of a large paw came crashing down, shattering the mirror into a million pieces.

**OoOoOoOoO**

"DAD!" Robyn cried, at the same time that Amy yelled out "DOCTOR!", the pair of them racing into the church. They heard Vincent call out to them, but didn't stop to wait for him. The possibility that the Doctor had been hurt, or worse, _killed_ by the Krafayis was too much to bear. Thankfully, the Doctor _was_ all right, but they didn't know that yet, although they would, and soon.

Ducking out of the way, the Doctor pointed the sonic in the space he'd just vacated and switched it on. The tool whirred as he waved it at the monster, but there was nothing to indicate that it had actually done anything... except make it angry. The Krafayis gave chase, and the Doctor turned and ran towards the entrance of the church, quickly discarding the useless scanning device to help him pick up a little speed. He looked back to see what the monster was doing, hearing some more glass breaking behind him, then turned to leave... running straight into Robyn and Amy!

"Doctor!"

The Doctor cried out, his eyes wild with fright. "I thought I _told_ you two... Never mind, we'll talk about it later..." He took Robyn by the hand, leading her to the confessional. "Quick, in here."

The three of them quickly climbed into both sides of the confessional. Robyn clutched the Doctor tightly, keeping herself as close to him as she could. She whimpered, trying her best not to cry. It was a comfort to know that the Doctor was still alive, but it was a hollow victory, one she knew could be changed at any moment if the Krafayis worked out where they were. She could hear her heart pounding, and, as she rest her head against his chest, she realised her father's hearts were pounding just as fast as her's was.

"Absolutely _quiet_," the Doctor whispered, pulling back the curtain with one hand, and opening the shutter between the two compartments with the other. Through the open windows, moonlight streamed through the confessional, giving the trio at least _some_ light to see by. "Can you breathe a little quieter please?"

"_No!_" Amy hissed. As she drew back the curtain in her side of the confessional, everything went quiet, as if they'd finally managed to evade the monster. "He's gone past," she whispered.

The Doctor shushed her, and the three of them waited for a few moments longer, just so they could be completely sure they were safe, at least temporarily. It was like the calm before the storm, the brief respite before something _big_ happened. There was little time to waste, Robyn knew that much, but she hoped they'd get the chance to escape soon. She was worried that the Krafayis might find its way outside, and if Vincent was still out there... Robyn shook her head, she couldn't think about that now, she needed to keep her cool, and not panic. Panicking was not the thing to be doing at that time; it'd give them away far too easily.

But, standing there in the confessional, it was clear that the quiet was much too unsettling, and there should have been some sign of the Krafayis making _some_ kind of noise... except there was nothing. The only sounds Robyn could hear were her own heart, the Doctor's hearts, and their shallow breathing.

At least it was... until the wall on Amy's side of the confessional broke open with a resounding _crunch_. She screamed. The entire confessional shook as the Krafayis attacked, and Amy screamed again as more of the wood smashed around her.

The Doctor swallowed. "I think he heard us," he said. The confessional shook again, and massive holes began to appear in the wood.

"But _how_ can it hear us?" Robyn asked, looking up at him in confusion, as the confessional shook for a third time. She yelped when another hole appeared, perilously close to the Doctor's head.

"That _is_ impressive hearing he's got," the Doctor murmured, leaving Robyn's question hanging in the air, unanswered. "What's less impressive are our chances of survival."

"Hey!" a familiar voice yelled outside. Amy pulled aside the curtain and peeked through the hole the Krafayis had punched through the wood. It was Vincent, wielding his chair in front of him and goading the monster into attacking him instead. "Are you looking for me, sonny?" he bellowed. "Come on! Over here! Because I'm right here waiting for you!" He ducked, his hat falling to the floor, then lunged forward, seemingly hitting nothing, and yet at the same time, hitting something in front of him. He waved to Amy, Robyn, and the Doctor. "Come on, quickly, get behind me!"

Amy and Robyn wasted no time doing as they were told, but the Doctor held back long enough to scan it with the sonic screwdriver. "Doing anything?" he asked.

Vincent shook his head. "Uh, uh." He waved the Time Lord away, lunged twice more, then snatched up his hat and put it on as he made his escape, quickly joining his friends in the courtyard.

It seemed the safest place was to stay behind the artist, since he was the only one who could see the Krafayis, but that didn't stop the Doctor from running around like a headless chicken. In fact it was driving Robyn quite bonkers, which she didn't need when she was scared out of her wits.

"Where is he?" the Doctor cried, looking around frantically.

"Where do you _think_ he is, you idiot?" Vincent replied, nodding in front of him. "Use your head!"

Following Vincent's lead, the Doctor quickly leapt forward, turning on the sonic and waving it over the artist's shoulder. "Anything?"

"Nothing, in fact seems to rather enjoy it!"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Oo."

Now, it seemed like the Krafayis was on the move, and Vincent made sure he stayed with it, moving as it did to keep it within his sight. The Doctor tried to keep up with them, but without realising it, put himself within the monster's reach.

"Duck!" Vincent cried, and the Doctor hastily complied, a rush of air, which he was certain came from the swipe of a large paw, passing over his head. "Left!" Vincent instructed next, and again, the Doctor complied, but this time, to his friends' horror, the paw caught him, hurling him into the nearby wall.

As Robyn and Amy ran to the Doctor's side to help him up, Vincent cringed apologetically. "_Right_, sorry," he said, correcting his mistake as he moved to get in front of the trio. "Your right, my left."

The Doctor groaned. "This is not good at all!" he exclaimed, slightly winded. "Run like crazy and regroup!"

Amy rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on," she said, helping him up. "In here!" She led them through the front door of the church, where they would, hopefully, be safe until they could think of a new plan. The quartet quickly tried to close the door behind them, but the Krafayis had one of its front paws blocking it, or it did, until Vincent stepped on it. Now that it was gone, with a great shove, the four of them managed to close the door, but Robyn had a sinking feeling that, even though the monster was trapped inside the building, they were still in _very_ real danger.

**OoOoOoOoO**

"Right, okay," said the Doctor, taking charge of the situation. "Here's the plan. Amy, Robyn, Rory -"

Amy and Robyn looked at him in confusion. "Who?" they both said at once.

The Doctor winced. "Sorry... um... Vincent," he corrected himself.

"What, what is the plan?" Amy asked quickly, wanting him to get to his point.

"I don't know, actually, my only _definite _plan is that, in future, I'm definitely just using this screwdriver for screwing in screws."

Robyn snorted. "That's the understatement of the month!"

Meanwhile, Vincent had an idea. "Give me a second," he said, leaving Amy, Robyn, and the Doctor behind to keep the door blocked. "I'll be back."

"I suppose we could try talking to him," the Doctor mused.

Amy looked at him incredulously. "_Talking_ to him?" she repeated, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"Worth a shot," said Robyn. "Even if all it does is buy us some time."

"Yes, well, might be _interesting_ to know his side of the story." He frowned. "Yes, and maybe he's not really in the mood for conversation right at this precise moment." The door shook as the Krafayis attacked, fervently trying to claw its way through.

"If you're going to talk to him, you better do it now, Dad," Robyn replied, the door pounding against her back. "Because I don't know how much longer I can stand this!"

The Doctor nodded. "Well, no harm trying," he said. He turned to the door, hoping that what he was about to do would work. "Listen," he said, and the door jolted again. "_Listen!_ I _know_ you can understand me, even though I know you _won't_ understand _why_ you can understand me." He faced the door now, pleading his case with the monster emphatically. "I also know that no one's talked to you for a _pretty_ long stretch, but please... _listen._"

Robyn smiled. "I _think _it's working!" she said happily.

But the Doctor wasn't finished yet. "I also don't belong on this planet," he said. "_I_, also, am... alone. If you trust me, I'm sure we can come to some kind of... you know... _understanding_, and then... and _then_... who knows."

Robyn's smile faded slightly, as she listened to her father try and reason with the Krafayis. She wanted to say that he wasn't alone, that he had _her_, but something, something in the back of her mind, told her that he didn't mean it the way it sounded. Yes, he was alone, but not in the sense that first came to mind. The longer she stayed with him, and the more she got to know him, the more questions that turned in her head, left unanswered, but with the promise of being answered later.

Never now, always later.

Suddenly, a window shattered on the other side of the room, which was not quite outside, but a kind of antechamber, and a great wind picked up.

The Krafayis was now in the room with them.

"Over here, mate!" Vincent cried, announcing his return. He held his easel now, the latest thing he decided to use as a weapon. As the Doctor, Amy, and Robyn got behind him, he watched the Krafayis carefully, studying its movements from behind a pillar.

"What's it up to now?" the Doctor asked.

"It's moving around the room," Vincent replied, moving to hide behind a crypt with Amy and Robyn. "Feeling its way around."

The Doctor frowned, staying behind the pillar. "_What_?"

"It's like its trapped. Its moving round the edges of the room."

"I can't see a _thing_!" Amy complained.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had finally figured out what was wrong, why nothing had made sense from the start. "I am _really_ stupid," he said to himself.

"Oh, get a grip," Amy snapped. "This is not a moment to re-evaluate your self esteem!"

"No!" the Doctor shot back. "I am _really_ stupid!" he insisted. "And I'm growing old. Why does it attack, but never eat its victims?" He ran and crouched behind the crypt with the others. "And why was it abandoned by its pack, and left here to die? And _why's_ it feeling its way _helplessly_ around the walls of the room?"

Robyn's eyes widened, and her mouth fell open, realising what the Doctor was trying to tell them.

"It can't see, it's _blind!_" the Doctor finished. "Yes, and that, of course, explains why it has such _perfect hearing!_"

"Which, unfortunately, also explains why it is now turning around and heading straight for us!" Vincent exclaimed, emerging from behind the crypt.

"Vincent... Vincent... what's happening?"

"It's charging now," the artist replied, placing himself, and the easel, between them and the monster. "Get back! Get _back!_"

True to Vincent's words, the Krafayis was indeed charging, letting out a mighty roar as it ran towards the artist. To the Doctor, Robyn, and Amy's horror, Vincent was lifted into the air as the monster impaled itself on the easel's mooring spikes. It flailed about for a minute or two, then both Vincent and the Krafayis fell to the ground. Vincent stepped away from the monster, looking horrified by what he had done, as his friends emerged from behind the crypt. "He wasn't without mercy at all," he said sadly, removing his hat from his head. "He was without sight. I didn't mean that to happen, I only meant to wound it, I never meant to..."

The Doctor crouched by the Krafayis' side. "He's trying to say something," he told them.

"What is it?"

"I'm having trouble making it out, but I _think_ he's saying 'I'm... I'm afraid,'." The Doctor reached out, patting the air where the Krafayis was. "There, there," he said, trying to comfort it. "It's okay, it's okay, it'll be fine." His hand hovered in the air for a few moments, and then everything went quiet and still.

The Krafayis was dead.

"He was frightened," said Vincent, almost eulogising the monster. "And he lashed out, like humans who lash out when they're frightened. Like the villagers who scream at me, like the children who throw stones at me."

The Doctor shook his head. "Sometimes winning... winning is no fun at all."

**OoOoOoOoO**


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

After giving the Krafayis a proper burial, the Doctor, Amy, Robyn, and Vincent, lay on the grass outside of the church, gazing up at the stars. It had been a harrowing day, and the way it had ended did not sit well with any of them, but they couldn't change it, not now. If only they'd realised sooner, there might have been a chance to save the Krafayis, so they could've taken it home, but now, that chance was gone. Robyn had been overcome with grief, and she'd hated the fact that they'd gotten everything so, _so_, wrong, but there was nothing she could've done. She'd thought about trying to talk to the monster herself, while it was still feeling its way around the room, but had thought better of it, since she knew the Doctor would never have forgiven her if she put herself in danger again. Well... he probably _would_ have forgiven her, but the act of going out and trying to calm a rampaging Krafayis probably would've frightened him too.

"Hold my hand, Doctor," said Vincent, reaching out to the Time Lord, who lay to the right of him. "Try to see what I see." The quartet held hands, the stars above their heads twinkling and dancing as they looked up at the night sky. "We're so lucky we're still alive to see this beautiful world," Vincent continued. "Look at the sky. It's not dark and black and without character. The black is, in fact, deep blue," he pointed to a particular spot in the sky, where the darkness was less thick, "and over there, lighter blue," he waved his hand through the air, as if he was painting the sky, "and blowing through the blueness and the blackness, the wind swirling through the air, and then shining, burning, bursting through - the stars!" He raised his head, leaning towards the stars as his passion overcame him. "Can you _see_ how they roll their light?" he asked, lying down again. "Everywhere we look, complex magic of nature blazes before our eyes."

The Doctor smiled. "I've seen many things, my friend," he said quietly. "But you're right. Nothing... quite as wonderful as the things you see." He turned to Robyn, lifting their joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He said nothing more, but his actions spoke louder than words.

"I will miss you terribly," said Vincent sadly, addressing Amy, but meaning all of them.

And although none of them replied, it was obvious that the Doctor, Amy, and Robyn, felt the same way.

"Well," the Doctor said at last, letting go of Vincent's hand and getting to his feet. "It's time we started heading back, before it gets too much later."

Amy leaned up on her elbows, and turned to look up at him. "Back to Vincent's, or the...?"

"You will stay with me tonight," Vincent replied, standing and brushing the grass from his coat. "It will be very late when we return, and far too late for a child to remain awake."

The Doctor nodded. "And I think we'll all need a good night's sleep," he agreed. "So we're in a better state of mind tomorrow morning."

Robyn stood, shaking grass and leaves from her hair. "So, what are we waiting for?" she asked, smiling impishly. "Are we going to stand around here all night?" She looked at Vincent. "Or am I going to have to start making one of you chase me?"

The artist laughed, and the sound was like music to her ears. "I don't think we'll go that far, lass," he replied.

"I didn't think so either," said Robyn, taking the Doctor by the hand. "Don't want to lose anyone, anyway."

And, so they set off, talking and laughing, although they never forgot about the events of that night, how it had changed them. It had been so strange, and yet so right, that the Krafayis, and Vincent, had been so alike. Both had been abandoned, both had been feared, and both were misunderstood. The parallels were so striking, terrifyingly so, that it was heartbreaking to think in such terms.

"When we leave," Robyn began, speaking quietly so Vincent didn't hear her, "will you tell me everything?" she asked. "About Gallifrey, and why you're alone, and about Rory, and about all the things that you haven't told me because you think I won't be able to handle it?"

"Are you sure you really want to know?" the Doctor replied. "There's a lot of... stuff, very... extremely very not good... stuff I haven't told you, for very good reasons."

Robyn frowned. "And you think, just because I'm a kid, that I won't understand?"

"No! It's not like that at all."

"So, it's not that I'm a kid, it's that you obviously don't trust me."

The Doctor sighed. "Robyn, it's not that I don't trust you, but..."

"But what?"

"If, and I mean if, I told you everything... you might stop trusting me."

"I wouldn't," Robyn said quietly. "I wouldn't stop trusting you, not even if you paid me!"

The Doctor smiled. "That's the right attitude," he replied.

"So, will you tell me?"

"Tomorrow. I'll tell you, tomorrow, when we're back at the TARDIS."

Robyn sighed, then shook her head. "I suppose I can wait until then," she replied. "But don't think you're going to back out somehow." She smiled cheekily. "You crafty old man."

The Doctor grinned. "No, I'm a mad man with a box. There's a difference, you know."

"There is?"

"Sure there is, if you're willing to stick around long enough to find out." He raised his eyebrows. "Are you?"

"I am!"

But the Doctor wasn't so sure. It was true that he'd picked a pretty strong girl to adopt, and she'd taken everything she already knew in stride. He _could_ tell her about Gallifrey, and he _could_ tell her about Rory, but they were still pretty raw subjects with him. But he couldn't talk about Rory in front of Amy... yes, she did need to remember him, but something told him that it wasn't the right time for that.

Not yet.

"Anyway," he said at last, shaking his head. "I will tell you everything, and I mean everything, tomorrow. I promise."

**OoOoOoOoO**

The next morning, it was time for the Doctor, Amy, and Robyn, to leave. It felt like such a sad moment, and yet, Robyn couldn't help feeling that they'd changed Vincent's life for the better. She knew he might still kill himself, but it wasn't set in stone... or maybe it was, it was a bit difficult to tell sometimes. But she'd come to love the artist, which was a massive, but not completely unwelcome change on her part, and she wished she could spend another hour with him, or another day, learning all about him and his art.

"I only wish I had something of real value to give you," said Vincent, when everyone was ready to go. He'd presented the Doctor with one of his self portraits - the same one he'd tried to sell to the cafe owner.

Of course, the Doctor was flattered, but he knew the importance of Vincent's work, even if the artist himself didn't. "Oh, no, no, no," he said earnestly, holding the painted likeness up against its very real, very _alive_, subject and marvelling at its accuracy. "I could _never_ accept such... an extraordinary gift."

Vincent looked dismayed for a moment, but not at all surprised. "Very well, but you're not the first to decline the offer." He turned to Amy and smiled, spreading his arms widely. "Amy, the blessed, the wonderful!" He gathered her into a hug, and the two of them kissed each other's cheeks.

"Oh, be good to yourself," said Amy, hugging him again. "And be kind to yourself."

"I'll try my best."

"And maybe give the beard a little trim before you next kiss someone," she added, rubbing her cheek and giggling.

Vincent grinned. "I will," he replied, joining in with her laughter. "I will. And if you tire of this Doctor of your's, return, and we shall have children by the dozen." He looked down at Robyn. "And if they are anything like your lass, Doctor," he added, smiling at the little girl, "then they will be the smartest, and the most beautiful, children in Provence."

Robyn blushed, deeply touched by the compliment. She allowed the artist to pick her up and hug her tightly, and she took the opportunity to kiss him on the cheek, then whispered in his ear, ever so delicately, "I love you, Uncle Vincent. _Please_ be happy, for me... or Amy?"

"I'll certainly try, little one." Replacing her on the floor, Vincent turned to the Doctor next. "Doctor, my friend," he said, shaking the Time Lord's hand. "We have fought monsters together, and we have won." His face turned grave. "On my own, I fear I may not do as well."

The two men hugged, but while Vincent was the picture of happiness, the Doctor was not. Even after everything that had happened, the artist was still set to take his own life at some point in the not so distant future, and that knowledge _hurt_ like nothing on Earth. Because he couldn't save someone from themselves; he didn't, and very likely never would, have that kind of power. If only there was something he could do, something that might reinforce the positive outlook that was blossoming in Vincent's life.

Well, there was _one_ thing he could do, but he'd have to mention it to Amy and Robyn privately before he made a decision.

He took Robyn by the hand. "It's time we were off," he said, leading her to the front door. He nodded at Amy. "Come along, Pond."

Amy nodded back sadly. "Coming, Doctor."

The trio left the house, and started to walk back into town, but they hadn't gotten very far when the Doctor stopped in his tracks. He grinned, knowing that his idea was quite a good one, and he was sure that Amy and Robyn would like it, but he decided to test the waters a bit first, to see if one, or both, of them, might've gotten the same idea. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked casually.

"I was thinking I may need some food or something before we leave," Amy replied, to his chagrin.

The Doctor sighed. "Well, no, you're _not_ thinking exactly what I'm thinking."

Robyn frowned. "What _are_ you thinking then, Dad?"

"You'll see," the Doctor said conspiratorially, as he turned towards Vincent's house. "VINCENT!" he called, hoping the artist could hear him through his open window. Fortunately, he could, but rather unfortunately, or still fortunately, depending on your point of view, the artist was half naked, since he was washing himself up. The Doctor quickly held a hand in front of Robyn's eyes. "Got something I'd like to show you," he added. "Maybe just.. tidy yourself up a bit first."

"So," said Robyn, once Vincent had gone back inside, and the Doctor had removed his hand from her eyes. "What _do_ you intend to show him?"

The Doctor grinned. "The TARDIS of course," he replied. "Among _other_ things."

Amy frowned. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Of course it's a good idea!" He laughed. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"It might make him worse," Robyn replied.

"Or it might make him better," the Doctor countered. "Or at least, give him some hope... for a little while."

"Hope _is_ good, but..." She shook her head. "What _else_ were you intending to show him, any way? The museum?"

The Doctor grinned again, and it became increasingly clear to both Robyn and Amy that this was _exactly_ what he intended to do. It was an absolutely _ingenious_ idea, they had to admit, and if it worked, then time could possibly be rewritten. At least, that's what Amy hoped, but there was something about the whole thing that had Robyn worried. Yes, the thought of bringing Vincent to the future with them to see his works in the museum was brilliant, and it could be the best thing they would do for the artist, but... something just didn't sit right with her.

Something didn't make sense.

However, the thought was quickly pushed out of her mind, as Vincent joined them in the courtyard, having taken the Doctor's advice and tidied himself up.

**OoOoOoOoO**

"Now," the Doctor began, leading Robyn, Amy, and Vincent through the back streets of Arles. "You know we've had quite a few chats about the _possibility_ there might be more to life than ordinary people imagine." He turned the corner, immediately noticing the state of the TARDIS, which had been papered over with posters, then groaned.

"Yes," Vincent replied, as the Time Lord rifled through his coat pockets for a penknife.

The Doctor looked at the artist and grinned. "Well, brace yourself, Vinnie." He quickly cut around the posters, then unlocked the door, opening it so Vincent could venture inside.

Of course, the first thing that Vincent noticed, like many others had before him, was that there was an entire room, very large, and very sparse, inside a very small, compact, blue box. He could walk around it in a few minutes, and yet it was the biggest room he'd ever seen on the inside. It was such a beautiful, magnificent, completely _impossible_ thing, and yet, there it was, with tunnels and stairs that led to who knows where. Amy, Robyn, and the Doctor grinned at each other, as if sharing a private joke, quickly fading into mock seriousness as he returned outside. "How come _I'm_ the crazy one?" he asked. "And you three have stayed sane?"

Laughing merrily, the quartet entered the TARDIS, the Doctor removing Vincent's hat and placing it on the coat rack. He approached the console, inspecting the buttons and levers. "What do these things all do?"

"Oh, a _huge_ variety of things," the Doctor replied, walking around the console, stopping only when he found a particular switch. "Uh, this one here, for instance, plays soothing music." True to his word, music filled the air, and Robyn twirling on the spot, giggling as she danced. "While this one makes a huge amount of noise," the Doctor continued, pulling a lever at Amy's prompting. Although Vincent thought the Doctor was merely showing him what everything did, Amy, Robyn, and the Doctor himself, knew better. In reality, the Doctor was covertly beginning the dematerialisation sequence, and the TARDIS was playing along to great effect. "And this one," the Doctor continued, preparing to pull the final lever, the one that would send them into the Time Vortex, "makes everything go absolutely tonto."

And it did, as the TARDIS propelled itself through the Time Vortex, so much so, that Vincent found it hard to stay on his feet, grabbing hold of the bar underneath the scanner screen to steady himself. He looked at the console directly in front of him. "And this one?" he asked, reaching for another switch.

"That's a friction contrafibulator!" the Doctor cried, quickly leaning over to stop him causing an accident. Realising he must have been about to do something wrong, he turned his attentions to another pair of switches. "And _this_?"

"Ahh, that's ketchup," the Doctor replied. "And that one's mustard."

Vincent laughed. "Mmm, nice!" He grabbed the Doctor's arms. "Come on," he said. "Back to the cafe, and you can tell me about all the wonders of the universe."

The Doctor, Robyn and Amy exchanged a nervous glance. "Good idea, although, actually, there's a _little _something I'd like to show you first."

The TARDIS landed with a thud, and the quartet sauntered into the street... right in front of the Musee d'Orsay. Vincent looked around with wonder, as the sounds of the busy day blared around them. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Paris," said the Doctor, whirling around to face the artist. "Two thousand and ten AD, and _this_ is the mighty Musee d'Orsay. Home to many of the greatest paintings in history."

Robyn and Amy smiled at each other, knowing that he included Vincent's own work in that description, even if the artist himself hadn't figured it out yet. Neither of them could wait to get inside and show him around, and to show him how much people loved and appreciated his work. Maybe Dr. Black was still around, and he could tell them exactly how _he_ felt about Vincent's work? He _was_ the museum's authority on Vincent Van Gogh, after all, and he _had_ been very helpful the last time they were there...

A pair of young men coming out of the museum passed by the group, music coming from portable radio, which Vincent noticed, becoming fascinated with the device.

The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. "Uh, ignore that," he said. "I've got something more important to show you."

Robyn grinned and held the artist's hand. "This way, Uncle Vincent," she chirped, half walking and half skipping as she and Amy led the way into the museum.

It didn't take long to get to the exhibition of Vincent's work, except for when the Doctor had to run to catch up to his friends, and when they had to rush Vincent past the other exhibits. The museum was busy, just as busy as it was the day that the Doctor, Amy, and Robyn, had first come to view the artist's work. Vincent had never seen so many people before, at least not in this fashion. Back in Arles, the people would be laughing at him, and denouncing his work, calling it rubbish... but here... _here_... they were studying them, enjoying them... _loving_ them!

Loving _him_.

The Doctor looked around, finding the museum curator talking to a school group. "Dr. Black," he said, gaining the man's attention. "Uh, we met a few days ago, I... I asked you about the Church at Auvers."

Dr. Black nodded. "Oh, yes! Glad to be of help. You were nice about my tie..."

"Yes," the Doctor replied, smiling widely. "And today is another cracker, if I may say so, but, I just wondered, between you and me, in a hundred words... where do you think Van Gogh rates in the history of art?"

"Well, um..." Dr. Black thought about his response carefully. "Big question, um... but, to me, Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly the most _popular_ great painter of all time; the most beloved. His command of colour, the most magnificent. He _transformed_ the pain of his tormented life into _ecstatic _beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and magnificence of our world... No one had _ever_ done it before... perhaps no one _ever_ will again. To my mind, that strange, wild, man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world's _greatest_ artist, but also, one of the _greatest_ men who ever lived."

Vincent looked around the museum, listening to Dr. Black's speech, growing misty-eyed. He wasn't used to such praise from anyone, and to hear it now...

The Doctor smiled, then realised that the artist was becoming distressed. "Vincent," he murmured, quickly heading to his friend's side. "Sorry... I'm sorry, is it too much?" he asked, hugging him tightly.

"No," Vincent replied, shaking his head and smiling happily. "They are tears of joy!" He broke away from the Doctor, and walked over to Dr. Black, then shook the surprised curator's hand. "Thank you, sir," he said, kissing him on both cheeks, and then hugging him. "_Thank you!_"

"You're welcome," Dr. Black replied, still slightly surprised and confused. "You're welcome."

Vincent felt his face, remembering what Amy had said to him back at his home. "Sorry, about the beard," he added.

As the odd man, and his friends, walked away, Dr. Black started to return to his work, but then stopped, getting a strange feeling that he had seen the odd man somewhere before... and that his friends had called him _Vincent_... as in _Vincent Van Gogh_... He shook his head. It _couldn't_ have been him...

Could it?

**OoOoOoOoO**

The TARDIS materialised back in the fields of Provence, near Vincent's home. There was a different feeling in the air, a feeling of change, not big, but not insignificant either. Amy, Robyn, and the Doctor all knew this would be the last time they would see him, and it would be the last time he would see them. But the artist had earned a place in their hearts, and minds, and nothing... absolutely nothing would make them forget him. Everything Dr. Black had said was true, and even Vincent himself now knew what an impact he would have on the future.

"This changes everything!" he said, as he exited the big blue Police Box. "I'll step out tomorrow with my easel on my back a different man." He turned to the Doctor and frowned. "Though I still can't believe one of the haystacks was in the museum. How _embarrassing!_"

The Doctor laughed. "It's been a great adventure, and a great," he shook the artist's hand, "_honour_." He pulled the artist into a hug.

Vincent returned the hug eagerly. "You've turned out to be the first doctor _ever_, actually to make a _difference_ to my life!"

"I'm delighted," the Doctor replied with a grin. "And I won't ever forget you."

The artist turned to Amy next. "And you _are_ sure marriage is out of the question?"

"Mmm, this time," she said. She laughed, then leapt into Vincent's arms, giving him a big hug. "I'm not really the marrying kind."

Before she moved to say her final good bye, Robyn glanced up at the Doctor, just as Amy had told Vincent she wasn't the marrying kind. There was a sad expression on his face, and it was obvious that he knew something that Amy didn't, or else why would he look so sad? It couldn't have been about Vincent, they already knew his fate, after all, so there must have been something else, something connected to Amy, that _she_ didn't know about. She shook her head. The Doctor had promised to tell her everything, and she was going to hold him to it. This wasn't the time, or the place, to be thinking about it.

This was the time to say goodbye to her newest, dearest, friend.

She giggled as the artist picked her up and kissed her cheek. "Bye, Uncle Vincent," she said softly, hugging him tightly. "Be happy."

"I will, little one."

The little girl hugged him again, then lingered for a moment, but it was long enough that the Doctor opened the TARDIS door and called her inside. She blushed. "Sorry, Dad's calling."

Vincent smiled. "Go on, better not keep your father waiting."

Robyn nodded, then turned and walked back into the TARDIS, taking one last look at the artist before she shut the door behind her... forever.

The grinding whale-song filled the air as she approached the console, and she heard Amy say "Let's go back to the gallery, right now," but she didn't reply, instead standing next to the Doctor and helping him man the console. She remained quiet, almost pensive, throughout the entire flight. Usually Amy's excitement and enthusiasm was infectious, and there was nothing more that Robyn wanted than to be able to feel that excited and happy... but the Doctor had the strangest look on his face. Not sad, not happy, but somewhere in-between.

Their arrival back the museum was as swift as their departure, and they arrived mere minutes after they left with Vincent. At least that meant they wouldn't run into their younger selves, so they could move through the gallery more freely.

"Time can be rewritten," said Amy happily, skipping into the museum. "I know it can!" She ran up the stairs, knowing the way off by heart now. "Oh, the long life of Vincent Van Gogh!" she crowed. "There'll be _hundreds_ of new paintings!"

"I'm not sure there will," the Doctor replied, holding Robyn's hand and walking quickly so they could keep up with her.

Amy turned to her companions and sighed impatiently. "Come on!" She raced ahead, entering the Van Gogh exhibition and scanning the walls for anything new, and listened to see if Dr. Black said anything new.

"...We have here, the _last_ work of Vincent Van Gogh, who committed suicide at only thirty-seven. He is now acknowledged to be one of the foremost artists of all time. If you follow me now..."

Hearing this, Amy's heart broke. She turned to the Doctor, and Robyn, her eyes brimming with tears. "So, you were right," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "No new paintings. We didn't make a difference at all."

"I wouldn't say that," the Doctor replied, letting go of Robyn's hand and approaching Amy. "The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things, and bad things... hey..." He took the young Scottish girl in his arms and hugged her tightly. "The good things... _don't_ always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things, or make them... _unimportant_... _and_ we definitely added to his pile of good things... _and..._" he lead her to the painting of the Church at Auvers, the painting that had started it all, "if you look carefully, maybe we did, indeed, make a _couple_ of _little_... changes."

"No Krafayis," said Amy, looking at the painting once more.

"No Krafayis," the Doctor echoed.

But while they were occupied, Robyn had taken the opportunity to look around at the other paintings once again... and found something that would Amy very, _very_ happy. She turned and ran back to the Church at Auvers painting, then tugged on Amy's jacket. "You have to come see this!" She turned to the Doctor. "You too, Dad!"

The Doctor and Amy looked at each other, bewildered that the little girl would make such a request, but allowed her to drag them over to another painting, which had been hung against a black backdrop and bathed in _orange_ light.

When she realised what the painting was, Amy smiled.

The Doctor let out a low whistle, then smiled as well.

It was a vase... filled with _sunflowers_... with the dedication _'For Amy' _written on it.

"So, aren't I a clever girl?" Robyn asked, looking up at the Doctor with a wide grin.

"You most certainly are," he replied, kneeling down and hugging her tightly. "Isn't she, Amy?"

Amy nodded. "If we _had_ got married," she murmured. "Our kids would've had very, _very_, red hair."

The Doctor smiled. "The ultimate ginger."

"The ultimate ginge."

The trio laughed, gazing at the painting and remembering the artist fondly. Amy sighed. "Brighter then sunflowers."

**OoOoOoOoO**


	7. Epilogue

**OoOoOoOoO**

The room was almost empty, save for an easel, a sheet of paper which had been carefully clipped on, and a few drop clothes scattered on the TARDIS floor. The strains of guitar music filled the air; Don McLean's 'Vincent' appropriately enough. Robyn sang to herself softly as she stared at the paper. She couldn't understand it, why the music, this song in particular, had compelled her so. She'd met the artist, walked by his side, hugged him. There wasn't the sense of distance that you felt when you spoke of someone you'd never met, and could never meet, because they'd left the land of the living long before your own existence.

And she couldn't figure out why she wanted to draw, or to paint, but she'd given in to the impulse, and asked the TARDIS for somewhere she could do such things without making too much of a mess. She loved, and respected, the time ship too much to let anything touch her that couldn't be easily fixed. And, to her astonishment, the TARDIS had complied.

"What are_ you_ doing?" a voice asked behind her.

Robyn turned, looked up, and then smiled at the newcomer. "Hi, Dad," she said.

The Doctor smiled back at her, leaning against the doorframe. He looked around the room. "Haven't seen this place in a while," he mused. "The TARDIS must've kept it somewhere at the back until she thought someone might want it."

"I wanted it. I wanted to draw, and to paint," Robyn replied. She shook her head. "Don't know why... it just felt right."

"Now, that," said the Doctor, sauntering into the room, "is probably Vincent's influence. You've been inspired."

"Why?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Who knows," he replied. "Except you. Think about it."

And she did. She thought long and hard about why she wanted to paint... and found she couldn't. She couldn't think of a single reason... she couldn't think of a single reason to draw, or to paint, that is. But she _could_ see how the TARDIS may have engineered having this room brought out of storage. "I don't want to paint..." she murmured. "I mean, I _did_, but now..."

The Doctor looked at his daughter in confusion. "What _do_ you want, then?"

"To talk to you."

"Ah." The Doctor rocked back and forth on his heels. "Well, that's something else. Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

She nodded. "I think the TARDIS gave me this room so we could talk. In private."

The Doctor scratched his chin. She had a point there. The TARDIS could've told Robyn about this room while she slept, but kept that same information from Amy, so that the two of them could speak freely, and without any awkwardness regarding Rory. "And I promised I'd tell you everything."

"Twice, and I didn't even have to ask you to promise the second time."

"So I did." He sat on the floor, and beckoned to Robyn, motioning for her to sit in his lap. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

The Doctor laughed. "Okay, so what do you want to know _first_?"

"Tell me about Gallifrey, Dad."

"All right."

The End

**OoOoOoOoO**


End file.
